


Time Will Tell

by NightHeda



Series: The Nazra'an Chronicles [1]
Category: The 100 (TV), clexa - Fandom, lexa - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/F, Fantasy AU, Inspired by Game of Thrones, Inspired by The Witcher, Weekly Updates, clexa is canon, such a slowburn I can't even but it's worth it.
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-01
Updated: 2020-02-16
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:15:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 11,779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22067635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NightHeda/pseuds/NightHeda
Summary: Clarke lives in New York – and she has a more or less useful superpower. When she meets Lexa, enchanting in every way, the brunette turns her world upside down, literally, and Clarke finds herself in a completely new environment.Or – the one where Lexa is a badass warrior chick and Clarke tries to figure out what the fuck is going on.Check out theofficial Book Trailer!
Relationships: Clarke Griffin & Lexa, Clarke Griffin/Lexa, Costia/Lexa (The 100)
Series: The Nazra'an Chronicles [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1588333
Comments: 155
Kudos: 239





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Dear readers, 
> 
> first of all – Happy New Year! May 2020 be filled with amazing Clexa edits and fanfics.  
> It's been a while since I've dedicated my time to writing; I've been struggling with a major writer's block – until recently. Thank God.  
> I'm super happy to share my new work with you guys, and I can't wait to see what you think since it's the first fantasy story I ever wrote.  
> Sorry in advance for my English since it's not my native language, but I'm constantly working on improving my writing skills and I hope it pays off :) 
> 
> Thanks for choosing to read this fanfic, I hope you enjoy it! :)  
> Love x  
>   
> PS: As always, feel free to leave kudos and comments, or even come say Hi and discuss this story or other things on [instagram](http://www.instagram.com/clexa_hedas) :)

Sometimes, life just isn't fair. History has proven this, again and again, in every way you could imagine. Kingdoms have fallen because two soulmates decided to give their relationship a shot, genocides have happened just because a tiny deluded emperor decided to play God, and even the biggest step for humanity, literally, ended up being the victim of hundreds of conspiracy theories.

“Oh boy,” she mumbled under her breath when she realized she had just compared her bad luck of having to work a double shift on Christmas Eve to some more, well, disastrous miseries humanity had dealt with before.

For as long as she could remember, she'd never spent a Christmas Eve outside of a hospital. While nowadays, it was due to work, back in her childhood days, it had been her mother's work, or her brother's adventure-seeking personality, that had had her family trapped in long corridors, tiny nurse's lounges and patients' rooms, while other families where gathered around Christmas trees. Instead of baked apples, cinnamon and fir needles, the scent she associated with Christmas was the signature sting of disinfectants.

Putting on a not so convincing smile, she nodded at the grim-faced head nurse, grabbed her day planner and her phone, and got up, more or less ready to start the day.

***

“Clarke, please, I really need your expertise,” Raven whined on the other end of the call. They'd been best friends for two decades now, yet the woman never ceased to annoy her to no end. Especially when it came to Clarke's _expertise_. She shook her head, almost dropping her phone that she was holding between her cheek and her left shoulder, while she scoured her bag for the keys with one hand, not even thinking of putting the groceries down.

“Rae, just ask them and find out for yourself.”

“Clarke, where's the fun in that?” Her friend let out an exasperated sigh.

With her foot, Clarke kick-opened the apartment door and shuffled inside.

“Well for _me,_ the fun in that–” she paused to switch the phone to her right ear to peel herself out of her coat, “would be sitting on my couch and watching the schmaltziest Christmas flick ever made.”

She could literally hear her friend raise one eyebrow.

“Clarke. We both know I'm not asking you to use your superpower.”

“You're not?” Clarke asked, feigning surprise.

“Well yes I am, but I'm also asking you to leave your house – I can see your eye roll, stop it.”

Clarke snorted, her friend knew her way too well.

“C'mon Clarke, you promised you'd go out once in a century, and I'd like to take you up on that tonight.”

***

With a sigh, Clarke opened the door and was instantly met with a smell she had almost forgotten. _Healthy people_ , she thought and scrunched her nose while she elbowed her way towards the bar where her friend was already waiting for her. Before she could start complaining about her misery, they had downed the first Tequila shot of the night and suddenly, Clarke wasn't so grumpy anymore.  
If she was being completely honest, she was thankful for having Raven in her life. The brunette mechanic who, due to a serious accident, was forced to wear a brace on her leg for the rest of her life, and yet Clarke had never seen her not wear a big fat happy grin.  
  
The one person who had always been honest with her, the one person who had been there for her, no matter how rough times had been. _Through thick and thin_ , Clarke thought, and caught herself smiling.  
If only they hadn't developed the weird habit of using Clarke's secret superpower on Friday nights, to win bets left and right, always ending up more drunk than Blackbeard himself.

“Okay, you pick our first victim,” Raven declared with a mischievous grin on her face and handed her another shot.

Clarke looked around the place and spotted a group of college boys, already tipsy, in the back of the bar. She nodded her head in their direction and waited for Raven to check them out. With a satisfied nod, her friend agreed and clinked their glasses.

“Well, well, well, would you look at those handsome fellas!” Raven grinned when they arrived at the guys' table and didn't hesitate sitting down in one of the boys' lap, causing the rest of them to cheer and wolf-whistle while a few of them laughed at the sight of their friend blushing furiously, clearly not having expected to have such a gorgeous lady in his lap. At least not at such an early hour.

One of them, a tall and visibly ripped guy, with black hair and the most attractive two-day-old beard Clarke had ever seen in her life, got up and playfully bowed towards Clarke. “To what do we owe this pleasure, milady?” He was clearly more interested in her than in her brunette friend, and Clarke couldn't help but smirk back at him.

Much to his dismay, Raven interrupted their moment of passionate eye-sex, and meaningfully raised one of the boys' beer. “My friend has quite the extraordinary superpower–”

“I'd say she has two,” another guy yelled and the group burst out laughing again.

Clarke rolled her eyes at the not so subtle mention of her cleavage, while Raven chuckled. “While that is true, she's also amazing at guessing ages.”

The boys' faces morphed into a rather unimpressed look, obviously disappointed by the unexpected buzz-kill.

“But don't you worry, my friends,” Raven continued since this wasn't the first time they got this reaction, “our stake is higher than your pot-head friends on Sundays.” In the blink of an eye, she had the guys' full attention again.

“My gorgeous friend here will guess every single age here. If she–” the guys started booing but Raven remained unfazed, “if she guesses them right, on the _very first_ attempt, y'all owe us a drink.”

“And if she fails?” One of the guys, another rather handsome one who looked even hotter with his glasses, as Clarke had to admit, asked with quite a hopeful, and horny, tone in his voice.

With a smirk, Raven nodded, confirming his hope. “If she fails, we'll show you what _cowgirl_ actually means.” The whistles were deafening.

Clarke rolled her eyes again and grabbed a nearby chair, almost feeling sorry for the guys who wouldn't learn what _cowgirl_ actually meant, at least not tonight, or at least not from Raven and herself. What looked like a fun, fair bet, was nothing more than the women's way of getting free drinks because what men, or every once in a while, ladies, didn't know, was that Clarke could see a person's age.

No one had ever believed her, except Raven, when Clarke had tried to explain to them that she wasn't just guessing but could actually see the number when looking at a person. Her mom even had put her in therapy, convinced her daughter was hallucinating, and after a while, Clarke had learned to keep this little secret to herself.  
Raven however was fascinated and had quickly discovered they could use Clarke's superpower, even if it just meant getting free drinks. She even had tried to get Clarke to become a police officer and expose all the fake IDs teens would use, but both, Raven and Clarke, had used them as well, so the blonde had found that a bit, well, unfair.

Honestly, her friend was the only one who thought it was actually useful. Clarke found it annoying and distracting. Of all the powers, she was gifted with… _this,_ and often enough she found herself wondering what kind of karma this was. Comic books, fantasy novels and fairytales always told stories about amazing powers, and Clarke sure wouldn't have minded being able to jump through time, or to read minds, or even to fall asleep for a single second yet feeling fully rested afterwards.  
But here she was, the great Clarke Griffin, with the extraordinary superpower of knowing a person's age. _Great._

Needless to say, the two women didn't keep the guys company for too long that night.

***

Monday came much sooner than necessary, and Clarke found herself at the hospital again. She greeted the dirty blonde at the information desk who handed her a patient's file in exchange for a coffee, which had Clarke bite the insides of her cheeks to stop herself from smiling about the other woman's persistence when it came to asking Clarke out.

“I'll think about it,” she winked and turned to get going, but stopped dead in her tracks. The waiting area was crowded with people, and although Clarke had learned to ignore her gift, every once in a while she was too distracted and accidentally scanned the numbers. Usually it lasted a few seconds and usually, she was able to quickly disregard them. But usually, they were normal ages.  
What she was looking at now, however, was a four-digit number.


	2. Chapter 2

“Clarke, are you okay?” Niylah, the dirty blonde receptionist asked, visibly worried about the nurse in front of her who, in two seconds, had turned from a tanned and healthy looking human into a pale, dazed creature that resembled what Niylah thought the Grim Reaper looked like.

“Clarke…?”

Somewhere in the distance, Clarke heard her name, but she was trapped in a completely different dimension. Between numbers that ranged from 4 to 78, there was a 2149. She slowly took a step forward to change her angle, hoping she was looking at two people's ages, a 21 and a 49, but the number didn't change.  
She took another step forward, only to realize it didn't matter how much she walked around, it would remain 2149. Before she knew what was happening, someone had grabbed her arm and wheeled her around before shoving her into a chair next to a man who was ferociously coughing into a tissue.

“Clarke!” Niylah exclaimed again and grabbed the blonde's face with both hands. It took Clarke a few seconds to get out of the daze and recognize Niylah in front of her, and Jackson, the doctor, who was getting the stethoscope ready, equally worried.

“What the hell happened?” The dirty blonde continued, “Are you okay? How many fingers–” Clarke shoved a hand out of her face and tried to turn around again in order to see if she had just woken up from a nightmare and the four-digit-thing had just been a bad dream, but Jackson stopped her.

“Clarke, please! You need to calm down, I'm getting a heart attack from just _looking_ at your carotid!”

She knew he was right, the pulse in her ears was deafening and it almost sounded like a single note instead of a steady, pumping beat, but then again… If this hadn't been a nightmare, there was a person sitting in this room who was older than Jesus fucking Christ himself. The mere thought brought back the dizziness, and before she could fight it, she passed out.

Clarke woke up to someone gently slapping her cheeks, and slowly opened her eyes. Jackson was kneeling above her, and she realized she must have slammed to the floor when she lost her consciousness, and if the fact that she had to look up at a kneeling person wasn't indication enough, the stinging pain in the back of her head sure was. Niylah helped her slowly sit up, careful not to let Clarke make any sudden movements.

“Where's the…” Clarke started but paused when she realized she only knew the silhouette of the allegedly ancient person, “brunette– the… next to the…”

“Shhh it's okay, Clarke, you're okay, it's gonna be fine.” Niylah interrupted her with a soft, reassuring purr.

Clarke shook her head. “No, this– I'm fine. Niylah, I'm–” she grabbed the dirty blonde's wrist to stop her from running her fingers through her hair, “I'm _fine_. I just need to know where– I have to– where's–”

“Clarke, calm down.” Jackson urged and tried to stop the blonde from getting up from the floor, but eventually figured even violence wouldn't help. At least Clarke wasn't as pale as before, and apart from the fact that she had just passed out and obviously lost her mind in the process, she seemed to be fine.  
She still felt slightly dizzy when she got up, but other than that, she felt okay. Rubbing the back of her head, she scanned the waiting area for the weird number, bracing herself for another mini heart attack, but the anomaly was gone.  
While she felt a powerful wave of relief wash through her body, she was almost disappointed. The delusion of meeting a 2149 year old person would have been such a cool way to lose her sanity, she thought. But that was the stuff fantasy novels were made of, and who was she, Clarke Griffin, to expect her life could be anything but normal. Except from her superpower of course.

For the next few days, she was hanging out with Niylah for such an unusually high amount of time that even Niylah became suspicious, but the woman didn't seem to mind it too much, and after a week, Clarke gave up. She had been visiting the dirty blonde more times than she could count, hoping to catch another glimpse of the strange number, desperately wanting her life to somehow turn into a fantasy epos, but the plot-twist never happened, and Clarke slowly returned to the daily grind of taking people's temperatures and fluffing up pillows.  
  


***

  
It was the tenth of December, and after several hours, Clarke had lost the fight against Raven's out-of-this-world-persuasiveness, and so she found herself sitting at a posh bar, wearing her little black dress that hugged her body in all the right places, with her hair in a messy updo and her lips in a shade of red Clarke could only describe as _hot,_ for which she felt incredibly guilty.

Growing up, her biggest dream had been to become an arist, and she even had started taking art classes in college, but Raven's accident changed her mind and she had switched classes to pursue a medical career. And now, the wannabe Van Gogh was describing a color as _hot_. She downed the rest of her drink.

“That's not very ladylike, Griff.” Raven scoffed and shook her head in a playfully disappointed way, while grabbing her glass to take an exaggeratedly slow sip of her Martini. “Unless…” she suspiciously eyed the blonde, “you've seen the mysterious number again?”

Her friend even mentioning the anomaly had Clarke's pulse speed up again and she had to remind herself that her mind had simply played a trick on her.

Of course, she had told Raven about what she had seen in the hospital's waiting area a few weeks back, and of course Raven had been equally excited and had come up with no less than 319 explanations, if “definite case of time travel” and “it's probably a Doctor Strange-experiment gone wrong so it's a mutant” counted.  
At one point, they had settled for “perhaps your superpower is just used up and therefore slowly failing”, which was far more likely than “aliens have eventually invaded earth”. And although the final explanation was fairly satisfying, Clarke couldn't deny the subtle feeling of sadness that came with it.  
She had been living with the gift her whole life, and no matter if it was useful or not, it had served as a basis for some incredibly amusing nights. More than that, it was a part of her, which she simply didn't want to lose.

“Nope” she replied and waved at the bartender to signal it was time for another round.

As the night went on, the alcohol in their blood rose to an impressive level, equal to the effort Raven invested in convincing Clarke to play just one game of “Guess your age”, but the blonde kept rejecting her, afraid they were right and her superpower really was fading.

It was when she ordered their last round of shots, struggling to actually look at the bartender while her eyes kept wandering towards the window behind the man, that in the blink of an eye, her palms became sweatier than ever before, and her pulse sped up to a rate she was sure would kill her in a matter of seconds. Outside of the bar, she saw _the number_. It was there, clearly visible, and this time she was sure she wasn't dreaming. Especially because Raven was pinching her like a maniac and she definitely felt the pain.

“Clarke what the fuck is wrong with you? Have you seen a ghost?!” Raven exclaimed and finally stopped pinching Clarke when the blonde, a look on her face that Raven for the love of God could not identify, met her eye.

“I… think I have.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dear people, 
> 
> Australia is burning. Around 150 fires are still raging, continuing to burn this beautiful country to the ground. Organizations such as WIRES Wildlife Rescue and Australian Red Cross are in desperate need of support, donations and international awareness.
> 
> My amazing team and I have joined forces with a dear friend of mine, and together we created a special edition in order to support Australia. You can buy cute Koala t–shirts, hoodies, tank tops etc. [**here**](https://teespring.com/stores/nightheda). Bonus: Use **AUSTRALIA** for a discount!
> 
> **ALL PROFITS WILL BE DONATED TO _WIRES Wildlife Rescue & Australian Red Cross!_**
> 
> For more information, or in case you have questions, please don't hesitate contacting me on [_Instagram_](https://www.instagram.com/clexa_hedas).

Before Raven could ask again what the fuck was wrong with Clarke, the blonde was up and out of her seat, stumbling and elbowing her way out of the bar and within seconds, she was gone, leaving a perplexed Raven behind.  
The freezing cold felt like thousands of needles on her skin, but Clarke didn't notice the pain. All she could focus on was the 2149 in the crowded street, a few feet in front of her. She didn't hear the scoldings of angry pedestrians she was bumping into on her way, she was too distracted, too deep in her own world, in her fight against the never-ending ocean of hats and coats.  
Every once in a while she caught a glimpse of the person she was following. In the hospital, she had been right to assume it was a woman, and she immediately recognized the long brunette mane.  
Clarke was struggling to keep up with the fast pace and she secretly cursed her black high heels that, although making her look incredibly hot, couldn't have been more impractical for a chase across a pre-Christmas Manhatten on a Friday night.

She didn't notice the man in time and before she could react, her nose met his fist that was holding an umbrella. The sharp pain shot straight into her head and tears instantly formed in her eyes.

“God, I'm so sorry, ma'am, are you–” she didn't hear the rest of the sentence when she stormed past him, trying to find the number again but it was nowhere to be seen.

Feeling a wave of panic crawling up her spine, she nervously looked around, quickly scanning every direction, but the number was gone. For the first time in what had felt like hours, she paused and tried to get her breathing under control.

“Fuck,” she breathed out, and rubbed her temples. Karma had fucked her over once again. It hadn't been a dream, and her power wasn't fading. Also, she wasn't losing her mind, which was just as fantastic. The number was real, and she had been so close to finding out what the heck was going on. She had been so close to uncovering the mystery, but she had lost. Again.

She stood there for a while, not moving, trying to fully realize she had missed her final chance, until a shiver brought her back to reality. She looked down at her fingers that had taken on an unhealthy shade of blue, and she quickly hugged herself, trying to somehow save the remaining warmth so she at least wouldn't freeze to death on her way back to Raven who either was worried sick, or had found a cool new way to win bets for free drinks. Either way, the blonde needed a hug from her best friend. That, and Tequila.

Clarke didn't make it very far before she felt a strong hand around her upper arm and was dragged into a back alley. She instinctively took a deep breath in order to tear her vocal cords apart while screaming for help, but before she could even get a tone out, another hand was forcefully covering her mouth.

“Why are you following me?” A female voice growled into her ear, and the scent of vanilla reached her.

Clarke squeezed her eyes shut in order to regain control over her body, and after a few seconds, she felt strong enough to get out a decent answer. However, instead of words, she was only able to get out a muffled noise when she mumbled into the other woman's hand that was still covering her mouth. She could taste a hint of soap on her lips.  
When she felt the other woman move, she opened her eyes to look at her, and she couldn't help but smirk into the palm about the bizarre situation; she was looking at a brunette woman that Clarke thought was breathtakingly stunning, with deep but tired emerald eyes, high cheekbones and plump lips, and Clarke caught herself wondering what they felt like, pressed against hers.  
But while she didn't look older than 30, Clarke stared right at the four-digit-age. However, she still owed her an answer, so she glanced at the hand that was still covering her lips.

“Right, sorry that was–” the woman let go of Clarke's mouth and took a step back to create a proper space between them,“sorry.”

“It's okay, I'm just glad you didn't kill me or something.” Clarke grinned and couldn't help but feel incredibly attracted to the woman in front of her.

The brunette carefully studied her for a moment, before she nodded.

“You still haven't told me why you were following me.” She noted.  
  
Absentmindedly, Clarke nodded, pretending she had listened to her, but she was utterly distracted by the way the woman's teeth softly touched her bottom lip when she spoke. The woman's natural beauty had eventually unleashed Clarke's inner artist. She tilted her head and the new angle provided a perfect view on the woman's cheeks, reflecting the shadow of the sharp bone structure. If the woman in front of her wasn't chiseled by the Gods, then the Gods clearly weren't Gods at all. Said woman was currently snapping her fingers in front of Clarke's face, and the blonde finally, although reluctantly, came back to reality.

“Huh?”

“Why were you following me?” She asked for the, as Clarke guessed, third time. The blonde's eyes involuntarily wandered down the woman's neck, and she quickly dug her nails deep into her left palm in order to finally focus on the question instead of losing herself again in the– _Clarke!_

“I wasn't following you!” She wasn't sure if emphasizing her lie with wide eyes and a dramatic head-shaking was a bit much, but it was worth a shot. Much to her surprise, the other woman slightly frowned indeed, apparently contemplating Clarke speaking the truth.

“Yeah I was just– you know I was just on my way to my friend and I'm always late and I'm also late tonight, and I was– well hurrying and it seems like you were just– I mean I haven't even seen you, I was so focused on getting to my friend who– who's waiting at, you know, the bar and I was hurrying and– yeah I was on my way to my friend.”

When she sucked in some air and her eyes met the woman's, she knew her own rambling had given herself away.

“So, you were on the way to your friend…” the woman summed up and checked Clarke's reaction. The blonde gave her a firm nod. “Then riddle me this – I walk past this bar, see this gorgeous blonde sitting inside with, who I assume is _the friend_ , ordering drinks, and in the next moment, she's behind me, cutting her way through the crowd with nothing but…” she paused to briefly study Clarke's outfit, “this on?”

With a smirk, the woman leaned against the wall behind her and crossed her arms, while Clarke had never been more thankful for the lack of streetlights in New York's alleys, since the darkness was effectively covering her ferocious blush. She opened her mouth in order to defend herself, but she knew it would be useless since the other woman had even seen her inside the bar, with Raven, so she closed her mouth again and awkwardly cleared her throat.

“As much as I would love to hear the real reason behind your stalking, we probably should start defrosting you.” The softness in the woman's voice suddenly made Clarke feel warm inside, and she couldn't deny that it had a calming and almost protective touch to it. With a smile on her face, she let the woman guide her back to the bar.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yep. That's chapter four, and it's one week early, but it definitely belongs to chapter three so it only made sense to publish them together.  
> I've also been struggling with some brutal virus, feels like my body is digesting itself (you’re welcome), my muscles are burning like hell, the fever is driving me crazy – I’m the weakest motherfucker on this planet right now and I'm in desperate need of happiness, so maybe this'll do. :) 
> 
> I hope you like the updates!  
> Love x

Although slightly disappointed, Clarke wasn't too surprised that Raven was nowhere to be seen when they entered the bar. She had been gone for almost an hour, and several missed calls and a dozen texts on her phone revealed that Raven had gone home, hoping Clarke was okay.

The brunette had offered to walk Clarke home, but the blonde had explained she really, really needed a drink first, so they had picked a table in the back of the bar where one could have a decent conversation without having to raise their voice, and after a brief moment of small talk (and Clarke almost drooling over the woman’s outfit after she had taken off her dark grey coat, revealing black skinny jeans and, more importantly, a white button up shirt with rolled up sleeves that left nothing to imagination – especially not the black laced bra… not that Clarke would’ve noticed it or anything), Clarke had even been able to focus back on the number instead of the woman's ravishing beauty.

She wanted to know the story behind the number, she _needed_ to know it, but the more she thought about the whole situation, the more she was scared to actually ask about it. The woman would probably think she was nuts – Clarke wasn't so sure of her sanity either anymore – and Clarke really didn't want to risk the brunette institutionalizing her.

But then again, her gift had never lied to her, and whatever the reason was for the fucking 2149 that had been screaming at her ever since she had first seen it, she had to know what the hell was going on, what this meant, and how this could be real. She had so many questions, and she didn't know at all how to ask them.  
The woman seemed to sense her frustration. She carefully lit the candle on the table between them, and leaned back in her chair. For a moment, she studied Clarke's face, more curious than worried, although Clarke knew her skin color was changing from scarlet red to a bright snowy white at minute intervals.

“We had quite a rough start, and I'd like to make up for that.” A warm smile appeared on the woman's face. “I'm Lexa.”

Clarke nodded. She hadn't expected that name, but then again, she hadn't expected anything, she was way too confused about pretty much everything that was currently going on. “I'm Clarke,” she rasped and realized how dry her throat was. She grabbed her beer and slowly took a few sips, never looking away from the woman across the table.

“Clarke…” the woman repeated and the blonde noticed the way she rolled the _R_ , and how she clicked the _K_ , and for some reason she couldn't help but think English wasn't the woman's native language. Which didn't mean she didn't like the accent, au contraire; it sounded divine.

Lexa's eyes followed her middle finger that gently ran along the rim of her wine glass, causing the muscles of her forearm to move in a quite delicate way, before she focused on Clarke again.

“So, Clarke, tell me something about yourself.”

The blonde raised an eyebrow, “Like what?”

“Like, what's your favorite flower? What do you do for a living? How old are you?”

Clarke almost choked on her beer when she heard the last question. What if she wasn't the only person on this planet with superpowers? What if mind-readers actually existed? What if Lexa was one of them? For a moment, all she could hear was her pulse while she was trying not to stumble right into a panic attack. She sipped on her beer until she was sure she was safe.

“I'm… well, I don't think I have a favorite flower. Lilies maybe. But… yeah no, I don't even know what they look like, really…” Clarke paused to rub the bridge of her nose with her thumb and her middle finger, while Lexa watched in amusement, patiently waiting for the blonde to continue.

“Well, about my job… I'm a nurse at–” Clarke paused again, realizing the hospital was where she had seen Lexa for the first time, and she wasn't sure if it was a good idea to mention the hospital at all, but then again, not mentioning it might raise suspicion as well, “Polis Memorial Hospital.”

For a brief moment, Lexa narrowed her eyes. Clarke waited, but the brunette remained silent, so Clarke continued, well aware of her pulse that was speeding up again. “And I'm 26.”

“Really…” Lexa took a sip of her wine, “you look older.”

Clarke snorted, “and _you_ look _younger._ ”

The moment those words slipped out, she mentally facepalmed herself so hard she was sure everyone around them had heard it nonetheless. Lexa however seemed unfazed by the comment, as she continued caressing her wine glass which Clarke still found incredibly hot, and slightly distracting.

“Younger than what?” The brunette asked in a warm, slightly deeper voice.

“Younger than…” _Fuckfuckdoublefuck,_ “see my cousin, she's– I guess you're the same age and she's 28 and I thought– I mean you both– and I– well.”

A subtle smirk played around the brunette's lips while she listened to Clarke desperately trying to form a decent sentence. She nodded and the women fell silent for a while, both lost in their own thoughts, Clarke perhaps a bit more than the other woman. Finally, Lexa took another sip of her wine and Clarke tried her best to brace herself for whatever ridicule was about to come. Much to her surprise, Lexa's voice was soft but serious.

“That's not what you really meant, Clarke, is it?”

Clarke froze. She had simply forgotten how to breathe, how to move, and she was sure her heart wasn't pumping blood anymore either. This would be the fourth time she'd actually die because of Lexa. And she was ready. The way Lexa looked back at her told her the woman knew more than Clarke could imagine, she knew she had answers to questions Clarke didn't even know yet, and she was almost sure Lexa even knew about her gift.

She blinked. She had no fucking idea what to reply, how to proceed or how to even function. All she could do was trust Lexa to somehow help her out of this. Out of what, exactly, she didn't know.  
The brunette waited patiently, giving her enough time to process what was happening, even if she couldn't grasp it yet. After a long moment, Clarke cleared her throat.

“What do you mean?”

Lexa's lips formed a warm smile while she carefully considered her response.  
“Clarke, look at me” she softly asked, and Clarke did. And she could've sworn that for a second, she had seen a glimpse of _something_ in the brunette's eyes, something she had never seen before. At first, she thought it was a reflection of the candle's flame between them, but honestly, she knew what that would have looked like, and what she had seen in the woman's eyes had been different.  
It hadn't been a reflection, instead it reminded her of a galaxy of some sorts. Blackness, with thousands of sparkles. She opened her mouth to say something, anything, but neither her brain nor her voice cooperated, and so she just sat there and stared at the other woman.

“There's more to you than meets the eye, Clarke, right?” She continued, and Clarke simply nodded, not sure what to say, desperate to find out where this was going, yet beyond terrified.

“You know,” Lexa paused for a moment, her finger still running over the rim of her glass, “we met for a reason. I know you can see it…”

“See what?” Clarke croaked. Her head was spinning.

“… I just don't know why,” Lexa mused, ignoring Clarke's question, “and I'm not sure if you're ready to find out the truth.”

Suddenly, Clarke snapped out of her daze. She sucked in a sharp breath; now or never. “I am!” She declared.

Lexa narrowed her eyes and carefully studied the blonde, obviously trying to figure out if Clarke was sure. After what felt like ages, she slowly exhaled and nodded. With a swift move, she raised her glass, downed the rest of her wine in one swig, and got up.

“Then we better get going, the moon is about to reach its peak.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whaaaa– 😨🤯
> 
> Kind reminder that I'm addicted to your opinions :)


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, it's Sunday again. Hope y'all had a great week! Have I thanked you yet for reading my story? No? Well, _thank you_ guys! :) It means a lot to me! <3

Before she could ponder over what Lexa had just said, the brunette was gone. Clarke stumbled out of her seat and out of the bar, quickly scanning the streets for a familiar brunette mane. Just when she was about to panic, she spotted Lexa on the other side of the street; Clarke didn't hear the honking cars and squealing tires when she crossed it. Although she considered herself a rather fast walker, she was struggling to keep up with Lexa's pace, and it didn't take more than five minutes for her to be out of breath.

“Lexa, where are we– fuck,” the stitches were killing her and she grabbed her side, trying to breathe into the pain, “where are we going?”

Instead of a response, Lexa took Clarke's hand and dragged her into an alley that led them away from the main street. By now, the pain in her side was almost unbearable, and she struggled to breathe properly, while Lexa led her through a maze of dark streets that Clarke had never seen before, and she was beginning to wonder if they were still in New York at all.  
Just when she thought her muscles inside were starting to rip, Lexa suddenly stopped and turned around. Thin worry lines appeared on her forehead when she looked at Clarke who was bent over, retching and trying to inhale at the same time. When the blonde looked up, she caught the other woman pinching the bridge of her nose, obviously contemplating something, before she sighed and took a step towards Clarke.

“Sorry Clarke, this is gonna hurt a bit.”

Clarke frowned in confusion. “What is–OH FUCKING _Christ_ what the FUCK!” She exclaimed when she felt a burning pain shoot straight through her body.

“You're welcome.”

“You're welcome my _ass,_ ” Clarke hissed when she straightened her spine, ready to jump forward and attack Lexa for whatever the fuck it had been that she had done to her, but then she paused. The pain in her side was gone. Apparently, Lexa had healed her side stitches. _Griff, please,_ Clarke rolled her eyes at herself, _as if Lexa could do that._

“And yet, I have a rather untypical number on my forehead– or, wherever you see it.” Lexa smirked and glanced at the moon before she turned around and continued her way, in a much more relaxed pace.

“What did you– Did you just–” Clarke shook her head and quickly got going to catch up with Lexa. “Lexa, did you just read my fucking mind?… Lexa!” She could see her chuckle but the brunette remained silent.

About ten minutes later, Lexa stopped again, and Clarke looked around. They were standing next to some overstuffed trash cans, and Clarke couldn't help but think she had been right earlier, and they had miraculously teleported from New York to Gotham City, and it was only a matter of time until the Joker found them and slit their throats. She looked up to check if she could spot the Bat-Signal somewhere, and she was almost disappointed when she was met with the unspectacular smoggy New York night sky instead.

“What are we doing here?” She asked, not sure if she should be terrified or amused about the situation; she was standing in some dark back alley, with a woman she only had met several hours ago, who supposedly was old enough to have been an eye-witness to the Fall of the Roman Empire, and if the blonde wasn't completely mistaken, the year the woman was born had been the same year Rome declared war against Carthage which developed into the Third Punic War. _Jesus Christ_ , Clarke thought, and snorted when she realized that the woman in front of her might've been best buddies with Jesus himself.

“We're waiting.” Lexa's response brought Clarke back to reality.

“For what?”

“For the moon to move its fucking ass.”

Clarke's eyes widened in shock. Had Lexa just used several swear words? The brunette didn't seem to be the type at all to curse like a sailor. Before she could muse about the uncountable number of languages Lexa could probably swear in, thanks to her two millennia of age, the brunette grabbed Clarke's face with both hands and firmly looked her in the eye.

“Are you sure you– wait,” she said and let go of Clarke's face, “I tend to get a tad dramatic every once in a while.”

Clarke's face morphed into a mix of confusion and amusement, while she watched Lexa scratch her chin. “I'm serious though. This is a tough decision and I want you to choose carefully.”

Clarke chuckled, she still found the whole situation incredibly hilarious, and the impressive amount of alcohol in her blood wasn't helping at all. “You kinda lost me here, Lexa. What is a tough decision?”

Lexa however remained serious, the soft smile on her face was completely gone. “You've seen my age, right?”

Clarke snorted, neither surprised nor concerned in the slightest that Lexa knew that she knew, _Oh yeah, the two-thousand whatever the fuck – right_ , and nodded.

“You don't believe it's real, do you?” With a smirk, Clarke shook her head. She was beyond curious about what Lexa had planned.

“Would you like to find out?”

Clarke's smirk morphed into a toothy grin, and she nodded again. Lexa nodded in return. “Clarke, I know I can take you with me, but I'm not sure I can bring you back,” she admitted.

“What do you mean you're not sure you can bring me back? Back from what, the dead?” The blonde grinned, she was so ready now for whatever trick Lexa had in store.

For a second, Lexa furrowed her brows. “Something like that.”

“Well,” Clarke laughed, “wherever you're gonna take me, I can't wait to see it!”

Lexa hesitated but eventually offered Clarke her hand. It felt cold when Clarke took it, but soft. She curiously studied Lexa when the woman raised her head to look at the moon, her lips moving but she didn't make a sound, and Clarke was wondering if she was silently counting, or if she was summoning the devil or something. Before she could figure it out, Lexa sharply exhaled and forcefully lunged forward, dragging Clarke with her.  
The last thing she saw was her own reflection in the puddle on the hard, black pavement.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Boom.
> 
> Short chapter, I'm sorry – but I could not **not** create this cliffhanger. ;)


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tagged Lexa's outfit. Thank me later.

Clarke woke up to immense pain in her lungs and she struggled to breathe. It felt like someone had smashed a brick right into her chest, several times. The past few minutes, or hours, or even days were a blur, and her body ached way too much for her to form any proper thought. After a few minutes of getting used to the pain, or at least trying to, she slowly opened her eyes, and the bright light made her feel nauseous.  
With the last bit of strength she had in her, she turned around, immediately starting to retch and gag. The sharp pain that shot through her trachea when she coughed out the salt water made her dizzy, and she closed her eyes again, focusing on breathing into the pain, or on breathing in general.  
While she was emptying her lungs and her stomach, her hands tried to hold onto something to distract her, but what she was grabbing felt like sand, and it slowly broke the soft skin of her palms.  
When she was sure there was no water left to come out, she took a few deep breaths, straightened her spine and opened her eyes, squinting and shielding her face with one hand to protect herself from the bright light. As she had figured, she was kneeling in wet sand, and she was surprised to see it was pitch-black. Behind her, she heard the soft sound of rushing waves, gently washing up on the shore.

Massaging her temples to reduce her headache, she tried to remember what had happened. She remembered sitting at the bar with Raven, then ordering the last round of shots, and she remembered– _Lexa!_ Of course! Suddenly, the memories came crushing down on her, of Lexa and the number, the chase and the puddle. She shook her head and immediately winced when a sharp pain shot through her brain. She remembered falling face first into a fucking puddle – _wait.  
_ Before she could figure it out, she heard the crunching of sand somewhere behind her. She turned around to a smirking Lexa, but Clarke could see the shadow of worry lines on the woman's forehead.

“I'm delighted to see you survived the puddle jump.” She grinned and folded her hands behind her back. Clarke took a second to study the other woman and paused – she looked different.

Apparently, she had changed her clothes. How long had Clarke been unconscious? The brunette wasn't wearing her black skinny jeans and the dark grey coat anymore, instead she was wearing tight black leather pants, black lace up knee high combat boots and a black _Oh Lord fuck me, Lexa is wearing a corset. A fucking[Steampunk Goth lace whateverthefuck vintage corset](https://images-na.ssl-images-amazon.com/images/I/71gWoGekGxL._AC_UL1024_.jpg)_. _As if she wasn't hot enough already. Doublefuck._

“What the–” a brutally dry cough cut her off. It took her a moment to calm down, and she gratefully took the leather water bottle Lexa handed her. “What the fuck happened?”

“We jumped into a puddle.”

Clarke rolled her eyes and got up, slightly wincing at the pain in her chest. “Obviously, and that teleported us straight into fucking Narnia, I can see that. That still doesn't explain your hot…” she paused and gestured towards Lexa, “ _That_! I mean, did you turn into a fucking empress in the puddle or are you a secret assassin or… _Fuck_.” She hissed and started rubbing her temples again. Everything about the situation was beginning to overwhelm her.

Not only had they washed up on a black beach, but Lexa also had turned into a much more evil version of Catwoman in the process. And to top it all, the four-digit-number was gone. Clarke paused in her rage. The number was _gone._ She wasn't ignoring it, she was actually trying to see it but it didn't appear. _Abracadabra_ , she tried, but to no avail. _Wingardium leviosa_. Nothing. _Oh wait, it's Wingardium Leviooohhhsa, not–_

“While I'm overly fascinated by the myriad of expressions your face can take on within 90 seconds, I'm afraid I have to interrupt your train of thoughts and suggest you focus on getting your feet out of the water, preferably soon.”

Clarke looked down and noticed the shade of carmine the ocean had taken on. As if stung by an adder, Clarke jumped and stumbled forward, getting away from the water as fast as possible. She vigorously stomped around in the sand in order to dry her feet. Lexa, leaning against a small rock, watched her with an amused smirk.

“If you want to get rid of any water, I'm afraid you'll have to get rid of your drenched clothes as well.”

“Oh I bet you wouldn't mind to see me doing that, at all!” Clarke snarled back but slowed down, figuring if the water was actually dangerous, Lexa would've reacted in a much more serious way.

“Well, you're not wrong,” the brunette laughed and folded her arms.

“So…” Clarke drawled, “where are we? This kinda looks like Iceland except I'm sure they have, well, healthy water there.”

“We're in Nazra'an and the water is absolutely fine, thank you very much.”

Clarke paused, not sure if she had heard that right. “Naz… what?”

“Nazra'an.”

“Is that… close to Iceland?”

Lexa raised an eyebrow but a smile was playing around her lips. “Not really.”

The blonde sighed and rubbed her face before walking up to Lexa. She was growing impatient. She was tired of Lexa's impersonation of the Riddler, her head was aching like crazy, the burning feeling in her chest was still very prominent, and all she wanted was to go home, take a long shower, and get some desperately needed sleep.

“Can you just bring me home, please?”

“Clarke, look…” Lexa's voice was soft. The woman got up and took a step forward, and Clarke could smell the almost familiar scent of vanilla again. “We're not in New York anymore, and we're not in Iceland.”

A hint of guilt crossed her eyes, and only then did Clarke realize that the emerald eyes were filled again with what she could only describe as a galaxy. “And you're… I'm sorry but I can't bring you home.”

Clarke felt tears welling up in her eyes, realizing Lexa wasn't joking, and that this was real. For a moment, Lexa hesitated, but when Clarke closed her eyes and a warm tear rolled down her cheek, the blonde felt strong yet soft arms pulling her into a gentle hug.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay wait what the fuck just happened.
> 
> #fantasyshitownsmyheart #yallhavenoideawhatyousignedupfor #sorrynotsorry


	7. Chapter 7

It had taken quite a while for Clarke to calm down. Her heart-rate was still higher than normal from the shock, but at least she had stopped sobbing like a baby and she was currently walking through what looked like the Scottish Highlands, except this wasn't Scotland. She hadn't asked Lexa about this place since the beach, and she wasn't sure anymore whether she would even understand Lexa's answer, at all.

“The number is gone, right?” Lexa suddenly asked without looking at Clarke, and the blonde was too exhausted to be surprised.

“M-hm,” she nodded.

“Things are a little different here than where you're from, Clarke.”

Clarke knew this was her cautious attempt at telling her the truth, and explaining to her why the beach was black and why the water had turned into the fucking Red Sea in the matter of seconds, why, for several hours, she hadn't heard the sound of a single animal and why Lexa was dressed like the female villain version of Ezio fucking Auditore, while Clarke herself was still wearing her short black dress from the night before as well as plain leather boots that Lexa had handed her, and only God knew where the hell she had gotten them from in the middle of fucking nowhere.  
Oddly enough, much more than her confusion, it was the realization that she had lost her super fancy high heels in the puddle jump adventure, that was frustrating her, and immensely so. It had taken Raven and her weeks upon weeks of checking dozens of online sales and discount offers until they had discovered this particular pair of shoes. Hell, they had thrown a party to celebrate their loot. And now they were gone. At one point, she would have to come back to the beach to see if they had washed up in the meantime, but if she was being honest, deep down she knew she probably would never see them again.

At the next fork in the path, Lexa chose the left one, leading them downhill, and they carefully made their way through thorny bushes until they reached what Clarke thought looked like a medieval road. The farther they went, the more did the landscape change around them; at the beach it had almost looked like a tropical island, then they had cut their way straight through a thick jungle-like forest. They had wandered through Scottish…ish… highlands, and if anyone had asked Clarke now, the blonde wouldn't have hesitated claiming she was somewhere in Central Finland. The different landscapes also came with different climate zones, and while at the beach, the black dress had been perfectly fine, right now she was glad that she was wearing boots instead of high heels.

She was so lost in her thoughts that she didn't notice the town gate until they passed it, and suddenly, she found herself in some Steampunk village that wasn't futuristic enough to actually be some kind of Steampunk stuff, although Clarke didn't really know what the hell Steampunk stuff actually looked like, and it didn't smell bad enough to be an actual medieval town. Actually, and different from what Clarke would've expected, it smelled like flowers and new bread. Not that she would've expected anything at all since not in her wildest dreams, she would have pictured herself in a surrounding like this.  
If she had to take a guess, she'd say she was in Bree or maybe even Hogsmeade, but then again, those places were fictional. But then again… so was teleportation.

She watched in awe as they passed half-timbered houses and people that looked like characters in the fantasy books the blonde loved to read. Most of them were hurrying to wherever they needed to be, and some were chatting in the middle of the roads, only stepping aside to let a horse-drawn carriage pass. They didn't even deign to look at them, although her and Lexa must've looked like the most untypical pair ever; a badass warrior chick who had it all together, and herself… pretty much resembling those poor figures in her neighborhood after a turbulent night out, drunk and disorientated.

They walked past small taverns and crossed a vibrant marketplace, until Lexa stopped in front of a tiny house, and Clarke wondered if more than two people would fit inside. With a swift flick of her wrist, Lexa opened the door and slipped inside while a frowning Clarke stood there, on the doorstep, wondering how the hell Lexa had opened the door without a key. She knew she really shouldn't be surprised anymore but she couldn't help it. She felt like she was trapped in a dream, somewhere in a different dimension, where the entire planet had turned into a 14th century Europe.

“Clarke? Are you waiting for anything?” Lexa asked with a smirk while already untying her boots.

Clarke, still stunned, her mouth open, slowly shook her head and absentmindedly stepped inside. The house was surprisingly bright which, from the outside looks of it, Clarke never would've guessed was possible. But more surprisingly than this, the house was much bigger as well. _What kind of fucking magic is that?!_

While Lexa moved around the house, Clarke slowly inspected the place. The ground-floor was a single room, and the interior confused her; she couldn't tell the century, at all. Half of the furniture looked like victorian versions of IKEA, the other half looked like it belonged to a Celtic tribe. She was pulled out of her head when Lexa handed her a cup, filled with… whatever magical hot beverage smelled like berries.

“Should I ask what this is?” Clarke cautiously took the cup and eyed it suspiciously.

“It's raspberry tea,” Lexa shrugged and slumped into an armchair next to Clarke who rolled her eyes.

“You've got to be kidding me.”

Lexa calmly watched her while Clarke slowly sat down on a fur of whatever animal this had been in a previous life, in front of the fireplace. She burned her tongue at the first sip, but she could already tell that the magical raspberry tea tasted divine. Her gaze wandered to Lexa who was still looking at her, a look on her face that Clarke couldn't quite grasp. But other than that, she was still the ravishing beauty she had met in New York. Which reminded her of the dozens of questions and her head began to hurt before she could even phrase the first question. She shook her head and took another sip.

“What is this place?” She finally asked, not able to contain her curiosity any longer.

“It's my home,” Lexa replied but quickly realized Clarke wasn't in the mood for jokes whatsoever. “We're in A'en Anore, a town in the North.”

“The North of which country exactly?”

Lexa narrowed her eyes, probably wondering if the puddle jump had caused some serious injury to Clarke's head since she had already told her the name of the country three times since they had been washed up. At least that would've been Clarke's reaction. With a wink, the brunette emptied her cup and put it down on the floor next to her chair before getting up. Clarke curiously followed her with her eyes while the woman scoured through a chest across the room, before returning with a papyrus roll. She sat down on the fur next to Clarke and carefully unrolled what Clarke realized was a map. A map of a country she had never seen before.  
It showed two islands. The one on the left looked like a normal island with healthy grassland in the north, and a desert in the south, while the island on the right caused Clarke's palms to slightly start sweating. It was two times the size of the first island, and it was completely deserted. _Deadland_ , Clarke thought. Dead trees, no green anywhere, and even the, what Clarke thought might had once been a river, was nothing more than a thin white line, connecting mountains and a dead forest to the ocean between the two islands. Clarke shivered.

“This,” Lexa pointed at the island on the left side of the map, “is Merrai. And this,” she pointed at the other one, “is Dholesh. But this one's not interesting right now,” she stated and Clarke couldn't help but snort.  
She was trapped in a fucking fantasy novel, in a magical town with… whatever the hell Lexa was, a fairy? And witch? A dwarf? She had no idea, and Lexa claimed it wasn't… _interesting?!_ The brunette seemed to sense her confusion, so she continued.

“We can get back to this later but for now, we'll focus on this side of the world.” She explained and pointed at the island on the left again. _Of the world? What the…_

“Merrai is one of our two continents, and we're…” she paused for a second to orientate herself, “here.” She pointed at a spot in the North. “A'en Anore is the capital of Nazra'an. And we were washed up on the shore right about…” she paused again and then pointed to a spot on the other end of the island, “here.”

Clarke frowned. “Correct me if I'm wrong, but that seems to be a day's march away. Well, if you go by car, actually.”

Lexa smirked and nodded. “That's what it looks like, doesn't it? But it's actually just three hours by foot.” Before Clarke could protest, she continued. “Distances don't work the same way as they do on your Earth. Some places might seem to be just around the corner, and yet you'll spend weeks walking there, while other places, like Ocane,” she tapped on the place where they had been washed up on the shore, “seem to be days away when actually, it's only hours.”

Clarke slowly nodded but she was seriously struggling to follow what Lexa was telling her, and she was wondering what kind of magical drugs the brunette had mixed into the tea since Clarke caught herself starting to believe her. It all seemed so… real.

“What about the other continent?” She found herself asking.

“Dholesh?”

Clarke nodded.

“Not much is known about it since we don't go there.”

The blonde noticed the shift in the other woman's voice. She was confirmed when she looked at Lexa and saw a frown on the woman's forehead.

“Why not?”

Lexa remained silent for a long while, and Clarke wasn't sure whether she was trying to come up with an explanation that wouldn't give away that she was lying, or if she was actually trying to find a way to explain a probably complicated history of dragons and Hobbits that Clarke was able to follow and perhaps even understand.  
The woman quietly cleared her throat. “That's a bit much for our first history class. Let's just say the… people who live there have a different understanding of coexistence. A long time ago, a contract was signed that prevents us from traveling between the continents.”

Clarke grinned, finally having found a plothole, and a very prominent one. “You're not allowed to travel to another continent but you're allowed to travel to an entirely different planet?”

Lexa shook her head. “Actually, it's not a different planet, it's just a different…”

“Dimension?”

“For the lack of a better word, yes.”

“Pfft. If it was the same planet, why can't I just hop on a plane and go back to New York? And why aren't the continents the same? If it was the same planet, the continental plates should be the same, right?” Clarke proudly finished her conclusion, satisfied with how she had figured everything out before Lexa _magically_ could come up with an explanation.

“Physics don't work–“

“ _The same here?_ ” Clarke scoffed and started to be impressed by Lexa and how serious she was remaining. The brunette nodded.

“Prove it.”

Lexa rolled her eyes and got up, obviously not intending on proving anything.

“Ha! I _knew_ it!” Clarke exclaimed and patted her shoulder as if to applaud herself. “You pretend to be able to teleport the fuck out of us into some enchanted medieval Rivendell,” at that, Lexa raised an eyebrow, “and then you tell some brilliant fantasy shit about dragons and elves–”

“I never mentioned dragons,” Lexa noted and leaned against the wall with folded arms.

“Pretty sure you had them right up your sleeve. Anyway, you're all mysterious 'n shit and yet you can't even do a simple magic trick? Like… you could bend a spoon or make my cup disappear or–”

Lexa snapped the fingers of her right hand and at the same time, the fire in the fireplace lit up next to Clarke. The blonde stared in shock and blinked several times, before she spoke again, not able to tear her eyes away from the flickering flames. “What the fuck was that?” She asked, barely above a whisper.

“You wanted me to do a magic trick, didn't you?”

Clarke quickly regained composure. “Yeah but anyone can do _that_.” She walked up to the fireplace and bent down, ready to examine it to find some hidden ropes or matches or whatever Lexa had used for this trick.  
Rolling her eyes, the brunette followed Clarke and snapped her fingers again, and in a split second the fire was out, not even glowing anymore, as if it never had been lit in the first place. Now, Clarke was impressed.

“Okay so how does it work, you snap your fingers and Alexa starts–”

Lexa snapped her fingers one last time but nothing changed. Clarke checked the fireplace and the candles, she leaned back to check the door that was still closed. She quickly scanned the room again but no matter how much Clarke was trying to figure out what had happened, she couldn't spot any difference. 

With a satisfied smirk and one raised eyebrow, Lexa returned to the armchair. “Welcome to _my_ world, Clarke.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bam. A longer chapter than usual but there was so much to introduce you guys to. Hope you guys like it! :)


	8. Chapter 8

“… and she never replied to my texts.” Raven explained, her voice quiet and monotone. She had been sitting in the small interrogation room for almost an hour now, and this had been the fourth time she had told the story, about how she and Clarke had been having a fun night out, and how suddenly, Clarke had hurried out of the bar and had never returned.  
The officer across the table nodded and glanced at his watch, but he remained silent, and Raven was too tired and too indifferent to be upset. It had been weeks since her best friend disappeared, and although she was glad that finally, the police had reacted to her, urging them to report Clarke as missing, deep down she knew she wouldn't see Clarke again.  
With both hands, she carefully lifted her disabled leg and readjusted the brace, preparing to get up but paused when the door opened, revealing a lady dressed in a black trench coat. Raven guessed her to be in her 50s. 

“Thanks for your effort, Officer Pike – I'll take it from here.” The tone in her voice didn't leave any room for discussion, and the police officer was quick to leave the room. Raven watched in surprise. 

“Who–”

“You have filed a missing person report for Clarke Griffin, is that correct?” She asked harshly, not bothering to sit down. Raven slowly nodded, the woman was intimidating.

“Have you noticed anything unusual before Miss Griffin disappeared?”

Raven considered the question for a second. If by _unusual_ , the lady meant _My friend saw a 2000 years old chick,_ then yes. But Raven knew better than to reveal Clarke's secret. She decided to shake her head and immediately regretted it. Almost in slow motion, the woman leaned down on the table and looked at Raven, her light grey eyes staring right into the depth of her soul.

“Miss Reyes…” she paused and although Raven knew it was a manipulative interrogation method, it definitely had the desired effect on her; she was already getting nervous. She slowly rubbed her thighs, trying to wipe the sweat off her palms but it was useless.

With a cold smile, the woman continued, “You came here, looking for help, and we both know the officers here couldn't care less about your _friend,_ ” something about the way she said that word sent a shiver down Raven's spine, “and contrary to these… people here, I know where your friend went.” 

Raven narrowed her eyes in disbelief but heart started to beat faster nonetheless. If the woman was speaking the truth, then why the hell weren't they on their way already?

“However, I need more information before we can commence the… search.” 

***

Clarke awoke to loud voices on the street outside. It almost sounded like a riot, and in an instant, she was wide awake. Sleep hadn't given her any rest whatsoever, she was still agitated, her head was still spinning whenever she thought about the past day, and she just wanted to go home.

After Lexa's magic trick, they had decided to get some rest, and although she had been beyond tired, it had taken Clarke half an hour to finally fall asleep. Everything was different here, in _Nazra'an_ (she might've practiced pronouncing it until Lexa, rubbing her temples, had asked her to stop). The sounds, the smell, the houses, everything.  
However, Clarke had to admit that she was starting to take a liking to the vintage interior of Lexa's home. Most of the floor was covered with furs, while there were candles in any shape and color imaginable on almost every surface. Clarke wondered if the other houses looked similar. She also wondered about the daily life in _A'en Anore_ (she still struggled to pronounce that one), about the culture and the political systems – although she was sure, not being too interested in politics in general, she wouldn't understand a thing. Either way, she'd ask Lexa about it sooner or later.

A deafening bang made her cringe, and for a moment, she held her breath, afraid the smallest movement would give away her hideout, until she realized no one was looking for her, and she relaxed. The violent yawn that escaped the blonde caused tears to form in her eyes.  
She quickly wiped them away and got up, still tired but also curious about what was going on outside. Her eyes widened. She had expected a furious mob outside, with torches and pitchforks, but what she saw instead was a cheering crowd, waving ears of wheat and white little flags. Children were sitting on their parents' shoulders, clapping and giggling. A smile appeared on Clarke's face at the sight below her. Yet she still had no idea what was happening.

She craned her neck, trying to get a better view on the end of the street, but she couldn't really see anything. With a frown, she slumped her shoulders and focused back on the crowd below.

“They're celebrating what you would call Midsummer Night.”

Clarke jumped, she hadn't heard Lexa enter the room. She whirled around and was well aware of her pounding heart at the sight of Lexa, again dressed in black leather pants but instead of a corset, she was wearing a white medieval shirt and a black vest, and she looked… stunning. It didn't help that Clarke had the hots for sideswept waves, and Lexa's brunette mane looked fantastic this way.

“Midsummer Night…” Clarke repeated and paused, “wait. Midsummer Night is in June – it's December.”

With a smirk, Lexa nodded and joined Clarke at the window. “In your world, it's December. In my world, it's Ewo,” she let out a laugh when she noticed the rather dumb look on Clarke's face, “eighth month.”

“Of what year, 1214?”

“It's the year of the Qrigraph, actually.”

Clarke blinked. “The year of… Cree…”

“Qrigraph.”

“And that's… what exactly?”

A toothy grin appeared on the brunette's face as she leaned against the window frame. “Qrigraph, also known as the White Raven, is a mystical creature that once protected the city of Afhylan in the Drogurdae.” Clarke simply stared at her with her mouth open and widened eyes.

“The… Drogurdae.” She repeated, as if by that, anything would make sense.

“The Grand Battle of Nazra'an where Afhylan and A'en Anore joined forces against Drogurd.”

Clarke nodded. “Right.” At least she had heard a few of these names before.

“Anyway. There's a legend that the White Raven, Qrigraph, will come back this year – hence the name.”

Clarke shook her head. “How the hell do y'all remember how old you are without having a proper date format?”

“A date format like yours is responsible for my ancient age. I don't find that very flattering to be honest.”

They fell silent and watched the crowd outside, and Clarke found herself wondering again how she had ended up there, at what point she would wake up, and if she would wake up at all.  
She never would've thought it was possible, but she missed New York, with its trash cans and the Hot Dog Dude on Times Square. She even missed the hospital and the grim-faced head nurse. She slightly furrowed her brows. She also missed Raven, and the rest of their group. With a sigh, she turned around and looked at the pile of clothes next to the bed, or the little black dress to be exact.

“How about you take a bath and I'll get you some proper clothes in the meantime? I don't think you'd enjoy traveling in this outfit today…” Lexa smirked, “although I have to admit, I didn't mind the view.”

Clarke snorted but couldn't ignore the tiny butterflies bubbling in her stomach. “Traveling huh? Where are we going?”

***

“When you said _traveling_ , don't you think you could, in a tiny clause at least, have mentioned that it would involve climbing?”

Clarke, utterly acrophobic, was trying not to look to her left where death was waiting for her. Their way, a path with the width of no more than 20 inches, led them along a cliff, and on their left side, the only thing Clarke could see was thick, white fog, but she was sure that underneath, sharp and spiky rocks were ready to impale her. At least that's what Lexa had told her. Nevertheless, she really didn't want to find out for herself if the brunette was telling the truth since the woman seemed to enjoy teasing Clarke every once in a while.  
At least she had provided her with proper clothes. She glanced down and grinned. She was wearing tight leather pants, as well as a dark red medieval shirt, similar to Lexa's. The knee high boots, although not too comfortable, made it easy for Clarke to keep her balance on the rocky path. Nevertheless, it was exhausting and she didn't understand how Lexa didn't struggle at all – especially because she was heavily armed.  
Well, _heavily_ might have been slightly exaggerated, but she was wearing a sword on her back, as well as a knife attached to either boot, and the blonde wondered if Lexa really knew how to use her weapons, or if she was trying to look badass.

“You know…” she continued, forcing herself to focus on the back of Lexa's head in front of her, “I'm kinda waiting for Saruman to curse these mountains, or like… for Gollum to–”

She froze when Lexa turned around, eyes widened, her index finger pressed against her lips, a sign for Clarke to be absolutely quiet. Holding her breath, Clarke stared back in shock.  
A moment later, Lexa quietly turned around and continued her way, and Clarke hesitantly followed.

She really didn't need be devoured by a satanic goat, or an Orc, or whatever creatures were living here. Wherever the fuck _here_ was.  
For several minutes, she tiptoed along, and with everything Clarke had in her, she tried not to make a single sound. When she looked up from her feet to check if Lexa was still there, Clarke frowned. The brunette didn't seem careful or scared at all; it looked like she was strolling instead, and Clarke was literally waiting for her to start whistling, any time now.

“Is the danger… um, averted?” Clarke hissed, her heart was still pounding in her chest.

“Huh?” Lexa asked over her shoulder, “Oh. No but your rambling was overly annoying and I didn't want to be rude.”

“Bitch.”

Lexa chuckled and they quietly continued their way, until the path led them downhill, _Thank God_ , but straight through the fog as well.

“Okay, now we have to be quiet for real.” Lexa noted, barely above a whisper. Clarke snorted.

“Oh really? Does that mean we're in actual danger now?”

The blonde clapped in excitement while Lexa gestured for her to be quiet. Clarke laughed. “Adventure! Whoo!”

Before she could clap again, a bloodcurdling screech echoed through the mountains, and Clarke could have sworn that for a split second, she had seen a large shadow above them.


End file.
